


a beginner's guide to classic car restoration and zoological medicine

by libraryfines



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Car Accidents, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libraryfines/pseuds/libraryfines
Summary: A dark road, a Datsun, and a deal made between strangers. 
Percy gets motor oil on every article of clothing he owns, Vex has a freezer full of Alaskan salmon, and Vax just wants someone to give him a ride to work.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The mechanic/vet AU no one but me wanted! I know alarmingly little about a) cars and b) veterinary school, so please alert me to any glaring factual inaccuracies. Rating likely to change later on, but don't get your hopes up _too_ high. 
> 
> Big thank-you to Kelsey, who beta read this despite never having watched an episode of Critical Role in her life. Any canonical errors are strictly my own.

It's too late to stop the car, but Vex slams on the brakes anyway. 

There's a loud squealing of tires as the car shudders violently, followed by a _crunch_ that nearly sends Vex's head into the steering wheel. She stares forward, expecting to see a dead deer splayed across the hood of her car, but incredibly there are only a few white tails bobbing over the guardrail and vanishing into the dark woods. The front of her car is fine, so what was...?

That's when she notices the blinding headlights in her rearview mirror, and the bottom drops out of her stomach.

Vex throws her car in park and kills the engine all at once, and the transmission grinds in protest. Her hands shaking, she jerks her seat belt loose and wrenches her door open, flinging herself out of the car in a combination of shock and seething rage.

The earlier driving rain has lessened to a noncommittal drizzle, and looming out of the fog is a boxy pickup truck, slowly reversing away from her car. There's a slow scraping sound of metal on metal as the cars separate; her rear bumper drops sadly to the ground with a _clang_ , kick-starting Vex's creeping sense of dread into full-blown despair. In the light of the pickup's headlights, she can see that the whole back half of her car looks like it's been through a trash compactor. 

Son of a _bitch_. 

Behind her she hears the pickup's door open and close, but she can't tear her eyes away from the ruin of her car. 

"We're the only two cars on this road for miles, and you've gotta be right on my ass, huh?" Vex calls over her shoulder. "Fuckin' stellar work, my friend."

The other driver says nothing as he walks forward, but lets out a low whistle when he gets a look at the damage. Vex flicks a strand of hair out of her eyes and turns to level a proper glare at him. Not that it does her a lot of good — between the darkness and the rain all she can make out is a tall, thin shape with fair hair and glasses. 

"Do you want to call the police," he says, "or should—"

"No!" Vex cuts him off in a burst of panic. "No police."

"I really think—"

"No. Police." She has avoided the "license and registration" song and dance for half a decade now, and this is _not_ going to be how she pops back up on anyone's radar. 

The other driver shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "All right. How do you want to do this, then?"

"Don't suppose you have the number for a tow truck?" she asks, as coldly as she can manage. He nods and reaches into his pocket for his phone, but rather than giving her the number he makes the call himself. 

"Gil? It's Percy," he says, and Vex only just stops herself from rolling her eyes at that poncy name. "I'm in a bit of a situation I'm hoping you can help me with..." He turns away from Vex and takes a few leisurely steps, a not-very-subtle attempt to keep her from eavesdropping; she can still hear him say something about a "fender bender" and "not saying anything to Cassandra about it," and after that she stops listening. Instead, she steels herself to take a closer look at the damage, hoping that it might not be as bad as she thought. 

It's every bit as bad as she thought, and then some. 

The bumper is lying in a pile of glass shards from the shattered tail lights, and the whole trunk area is compressed and sheared as if it were made of tin foil. The license plate is bent like a playing card, and one wheel is turned at an odd angle. She has to stop herself from mentally tallying up the damage — $500 for this part, $1000 for that part, and the labor costs, good god — but the word "totaled" is lurking ominously in the back of her mind. 

She folds her arms across her chest and looks away, scanning the woods for any sign of the deer that had leapt in front of her car. No trace of them, of course, the bastards. Nothing on the other side of the guard rail but trees and darkness, and nothing on this side but a hot mess. 

"Truck's on the way," The other driver — Percy — says, reappearing at her side again. "Shouldn't be more than half an hour."

"Good," Vex replies. "But, wait, just the one truck?"

"Yes?"

"But your— oh, of _course_ ," Vex turns to look at the front of the pickup and cuts herself off mid-sentence when she realizes that it's barely got a scratch on it. "Of _course_ it's fine. Of _course_ it's _my_ car that's gotten the accordion treatment. Why would I expect anything different?" She takes a step closer to the pickup and squints at its front bumper, which has— ah, yes, those are her car's white paint chips on the pickup's otherwise pristine chrome bumper. She scowls at the chips and flicks one off irritably. 

"It's a pretty sturdy truck," Percy says, shrugging, and he might as well be saying _water is pretty wet_. 

Vex fumes, and says nothing. 

"I could take a look at it for you, if you're worried," Percy offers, after a long moment of uncomfortable silence. "I'm good with cars." Vex mumbles a vague affirmative and waves him on, figuring he can't hurt it any worse than he already has.

He goes and digs something out of the pickup's glove box — a flashlight, it turns out — and then he's kneeling on the wet pavement, trying his best to avoid the worst of the glass as he shines the flashlight up underneath the car. Vex watches and bites her thumbnail as he jostles a few things around, but nothing else detaches, thankfully, and after a moment he straightens up, wiping his hands on his jeans and brushing off bits of glass. Now that he's standing in the pickup's headlights Vex can make out more of his face. Sharp, angular cheekbones with a nose to match, light-colored eyes behind round glasses that are a bit too Harry Potter to be fashionable, and untidy hair that's shockingly white for a young man — all together, he comes across a bit owlish, which is only accentuated as he blinks in the bright headlights. 

"It's not good, I'll tell you that much," he says drily, running a hand absently through his damp hair and making it stand nearly on end. "It's too dark to tell for sure how much is salvageable, but the body work alone is gonna set you back two, maybe three—wait a second." Percy takes a step to the side and squints through his rain-slick glasses at the front end of Vex's car. "Is this a Datsun?"

"It _was_ , until your fuck-off pickup decided to _destroy_ —"

"240Z, right?" He takes a few long strides to the front of Vex's car, peering intently at the hood, then shining his flashlight through the driver's side window. "This has got to be, what, a '71?"

Oh god, Vex thinks, he's one of _those_. "'73, actually, but could we focus on _this_ end of it for a bit?" She gestures broadly at the crumpled remains of her rear fender, and the Percy returns to her side, seeming slightly chastened. 

"Sorry. It's not often you run into a car like this—ah, literally." He laughs weakly, and Vex rolls her eyes. "Anyway, without getting it up on blocks, it's hard to say for sure what kind of shape it's in. Not good, though."

"And not cheap," Vex adds, her earlier irritation giving way to something more morose. She takes a deep breath through her nose in the hopes that the woods' scent of pine and earth would work its usual calming magic. It doesn't, but nevertheless she manages to avoid heaving a sigh of resignation. "This is the last straw, I think. No coming back from this one." 

"You never know!" Percy says, dropping the flashlight into his jacket pocket, and to his credit his cheerfulness doesn't sound _too_ forced. "This could be your chance to fix it up better than it was before. Out with the old bumper, in with the new!" Vex looks at him as if he's grown a second head, and he deflates a bit under her gaze. 

Apparently not to be discouraged, he pulls out his wallet, fishing in it for a moment before retrieving a business card and handing it to her. "Here's my information. To sort out insurance, and— things."

The card is a bit worse for wear, blunted at the corners from a long residency in Percy's wallet, and the name on it is _absurd_. Underneath, it just reads "MECHANIC" in block letters, with a local phone number. She looks silently from the card in her hand to the man in front of her, and tries to fit that name onto him. "That's, ah..."

"A bit of a mouthful, yes." He smiles wryly. "You can call me Percy, if you like." There's a bit of a long pause, and he looks at her expectantly. 

"Oh, right, I should—" She makes a vague gesture and goes to retrieve her bag from her car. The accident jolted it from the passenger seat and its contents have spilled all over the floor — her heart lurches at her textbooks lying in a rumpled heap with a week's worth of empty coffee cups — but the spread makes locating a pen and an old 7/11 receipt a fairly straightforward. She scrawls her name and phone number down on the back and hands it off to Percy. 

"Vex'ahlia Vessar" he reads, and holds out a hand to her. "Nice to meet you."

"It's Vex, generally." She shakes his outstretched hand, which is as damp as hers is from the rain and a bit gritty from the pavement, but surprisingly warm. "And is it nice, though? Considering?"

"You haven't threatened to sue me yet, so I'm opting for the bright side here."

"Glad someone is." Vex picks her way between the two cars and hops up to sit on the guard rail. The metal is clammy and the cold seeps through her jeans, but it's better than the ground, and she can't quite bring herself to get back in what's left of her car. A moment later Percy settles in next to her, leaning against the upright post to her left. 

"Tow truck will be here in half an hour, you said?"

"Probably fifteen minutes now."

Vex nods, satisfied. "I guess I'll give you a call later to sort everything out, then?"

"Actually," Percy says, turning to face her, "I have an idea." He pauses for a response, and Vex makes a vague _go on_ gesture. "Let me fix your car."

Vex raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, so Percy continues. "If you submit an insurance claim on this it's done. Totaled. But I'd be willing to fix the damage, and then you get to keep your car. You seem fond of it."

"It certainly keeps things interesting," Vex replies, which is as close to the truth of her complicated relationship with the Datsun as she's willing to get. 

"I imagine it does. It would be a shame to take a car like this off the road."

"That's kind of you, Percy, it really is, but I..." Vex hesitates, chewing her lip. "I can barely afford to maintain this car, and I'm pretty sure these kinds of repairs are out of my price range."

"Good thing I'm willing to do it for free."

Vex hears a record scratch somewhere in her brain. 

"Come again?"

"I'll do it for free," Percy says, blithe and earnest. "Parts, labor, the whole bit."

"You're crazy."

"Probably. I'm not being totally altruistic, of course. I've had my eye on a project like this for ages now, and this is quite an opportunity. And if you'd agree to this..." There's a hint of mischief in his eyes now, and Vex finds it equally endearing and unsettling. "I'd want to do a full restoration. Not just fix up the bumper — a total overhaul. Make this girl new again." 

Vex blinks at him in astonishment for a moment, then presses her hands to her temples. "Let me get this straight. You, who wrecked into my car, want to fix all the damage you caused—"

"And then some!"

"—and then some, completely for free, with no strings attached?"

"Basically, yeah."

Vex squints at him for a moment, then at the car, then back at him. "What if you can't fix it?"

Percy snorts derisively. "I can fix it."

"Such confidence," Vex says, half-sarcastic, but she's already having to stop herself from updating her monthly budget in her head.

"I know what I'm doing," Percy replies, and Vex finds that his casual self-assurance is actually pretty reassuring. "So, are you in?"

"Give me a minute." Vex slides off the guardrail and starts to pace, from the rail to her front bumper and back. She briefly considers calling Vax, but she knows what he'd say anyway — that this is a racket, and that she'd better take the insurance money and buy (oh, Christ) a used Ford Fiesta, or another cheap and ugly car, and get on with her life, because cars are for getting you from point A to point B, and that's enough. 

And then she looks at the Datsun, still handsome even in its current distress, and a small voice inside her shouts _FREE_. 

No contest. Sorry, Vax. 

"Okay," she says, turning back to Percy.

"Okay?" His entire face lights up, and Vex feels like she's just told a child that he's going to Disneyland.

"Yeah, okay. You can do the thing." Percy opens his mouth to say something, but Vex cuts him off, attempting to sound serious and businesslike in the face of his excitement. "You can fix my car, and I will not give you a single red cent to do it, and the car will be better than new in..." 

"Six months," Percy supplies, and Vex shakes her head. 

"Five. I need it back on the road by Halloween." 

He considers for a moment, then nods. "I can do that. I'll call you tomorrow and hammer out the fine print?"

"Yeah."

"All right."

Vex resumes her place on the guardrail, and they lapse into an unexpectedly comfortable silence, Percy kicking at the loose gravel on the shoulder and Vex fielding concerned texts from Vax. Once Vax is sufficiently placated, Vex finally lets herself relax a little, and peers around at the woods surrounding them. By now the rain's completely stopped, and weak moonlight has begun to filter through the dissipating cloud cover. The fog's here to stay, though, lying heavy on the road and curling around the trees, forming a blanket over the entire forest. No wonder she almost hit those deer — she can see Percy and the cars, still bathed in the pickup's headlights, but soon after that the road vanishes into a gray haze.

_This could be nice_ , Vex notes, taking a deep breath and pulling her jacket tighter around her, _Under different circumstances, maybe_.

"Are you hurt at all?" Percy asks abruptly, after about ten minutes of silence. "I'm sorry, I should have asked before. That was, ah, quite a bump."

"Wrenched my neck a bit, I think, but otherwise I'm fine," Vex says, rolling her head from side to side just to be sure. "I'm not going to sue you for hospital bills, at any rate."

"That's not what I—" Percy begins, affronted, but clearly thinks better of it, and continues more gently. "I'm glad you're all right." 

She will learn, later, that "I'm glad you're all right" is about as close as Percy ever comes to an apology. Now, as the tow truck lumbers around the bend in the road, she thinks nothing of it.


End file.
